


Spiral

by Flufferdoodle



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Pre-November 20th
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:09:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28748220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flufferdoodle/pseuds/Flufferdoodle
Summary: Akechi wants more time.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Kudos: 32





	Spiral

Akechi usually avoided dwelling on their circumstances. He processed them, of course, and mentally picked them apart and put them back together. He understood his goal completely and understood that everything he did that did not directly contribute to said goal was a waste. He counts how much time he wastes. He even has an algorithm, buried a little ways into the depths of his subconscious, that calculates how much of a waste each unnecessary action is, how long the unnecessary action takes, and an overall score for how unproductive he is that day. It’s not something he puts effort into thinking about. It just runs in the background.

No, Akechi prefers to avoid the dwelling and their wondering and the maybes, could-bes, and what-ifs. His brain is screaming at him right now about it, churning out unpleasantness and shame as he fails to meet his preferences, however, because Akechi can’t stop. His mind is running loose, his chest is constricting, and everything feels very, very bad. The fact that he can find no other words to describe the sensation simply feeds into this little cycle.

Before him, Kurusu groans and shifts a bit in his sleep, his back pushing harder against Akechi’s empty chest.

Akechi forces himself to breathe with Kurusu. His planner sits in his bag, just feet away, and he wants desperately to check it. He wants to know what he has failed to do today, he wants to know what he’ll be late to tomorrow.

But he’s pinned against the wall, Kurusu’s body blocking the way, and Akechi can’t move him. Can’t turn on the lights and wake him up. Can’t worry him, can’t make him ask what’s making him get up at such an hour.

Today is November 15th. Akechi knows it’s past midnight, because somewhere inside, his body is starting to feel tired. So it’s November 15th.

Five days until he kills Kurusu.

Five days until this ends.

Akechi wants more time, and his mind won’t stop spiraling on all the possible ways he could eek out just another day. Just another hour. Minute. Second.

He can’t feel the desire to kill his father. He can’t feel anything except the rush, except Kurusu’s steady breathing.

He knows that Kurusu will not last forever under any reality. He can see Kurusu’s skin, illuminated gently by the crooked streetlight just outside. His skin is fragile. Akechi wonders what it’ll look like dead. Akechi wonders how much the police will beat him once he’s caught. Akechi wonders what drugs they’ll administer to keep him under. Akechi wonders if they’ll be gentler with him; he’s just a high school student.

Will anything they do be enough to evoke pity within Akechi? Is Akechi capable of pitying anyone other than himself?

Akechi wonders what hell the world would have to drag Kurusu through for him to finally feel something other than jealousy.

The plan could’ve been that he had to kill Kursu tonight, Akechi realizes. There could’ve been a world in which Shido wanted him dead today, and instead of spending the evening touching and kissing, he would’ve spent it reviewing lines for the next morning’s interview while Kurusu’s body rotted in the underground cell. And Akechi would have been powerless to stop it.

He would not have had the chance to see Kurusu’s eyes, cloudy and gray as Akechi’s fingers dug into his shoulders. He would not have had the chance to see Kurusu’s lips, parted and pink as Akechi’s mouth pulled away from his. He would no have had the chance to hear Kurusu breathe, even and steady, as Akechi spiraled beside him.

He wants the plan to have been to kill Kurusu on the 21st, because he wants this one extra time.

He wants the plan to have been to kill Kurusu on the 22nd, because he wants this another time after that.

He wants the plan to have been to kill Kurusu next year, because he wants this again and again and again, and he doesn’t want to give it up yet.

He wants the plan to have been to kill Kurusu on his own terms, because Akechi would rather stab him here and now than have to think about this ever again.

Akechi’s planner is a few feet away. There are so many other things he needs to be doing right now. There are so many other things he needs to have done by now. There are so many things, so many things, so many things.

He wonders how much Kurusu has to do. He’s seen the Phan-Site, seen his work calendar, seen the untouched piles of textbooks. Does Kurusu have a planner? What does he have planned for Monday, November 21st? Does he intend to go to school, hands shoved in his pockets, cat in his bag, and ask the teachers for an extension on his missed homework? Does he lie to them? Tell him he was sick or had a family emergency?

Kurusu doesn’t have a planner, Akechi remembers. He knows this. Kurusu has a journal. A tiny, worn journal.

Akechi wonders what it says.

Sakura Sojiro gave it to him to keep a record of his activities for when Sakura reported back to the probation officers, but Akechi’s never seen Akira without it. He doesn’t think the officers have seen it. He doesn’t think Sakura has, either.

Akechi wonders if it talks about him.

Akechi wonders when he first appears in it. Was he noteworthy enough, at the TV station? Likely. But how much would Akira even say in it?

Does it talk about the Metaverse?

What would this journal have said on November 21st?

Will Kurusu finish the last page on the night of the 19th? Will his life end in tandem with the little leather notebook?

Some part of Akechi wants to find the notebook after Kurusu’s dead. Read it. See if it’s another mask or his rival’s true soul. But a louder part screams at him that he has no time. He has too much to do, too many matters left unattened.

Akechi wonders if he’ll have time to read Kurusu’s journal after he ends Shido, but a louder part wonders if he’ll just be dead too.


End file.
